New York
by EmotionlessNightmare
Summary: In which Eleanor begrudgingly admits that getting rid of Jasper wasn't her brightest idea.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Just an idea I woke up with in my head this morning. Still deciding if I should write a part 2 or not! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

It had been ninety-something days since she had last saw him. Not that she was keeping track, or anything. 

It had been thirty-something days since she had her blood tested on national television, and declared legitimate alongside Liam.

It had been within a matter of hours those particular results for parliament to charge Cyrus Henstridge with treason, and for conspiring against the crown. She was once again second in line for the throne, and Liam was now the acting King of England. The change had been made without pomp and circumstance; they were saving that for his official coronation. "Give the people something to look forward to," her mother had said.

For once in his life, Jasper Frost had listened to her when she had told him to go. She hadn't been lying; it was difficult for her to see him. She had so much to work through on her own, she couldn't handle having him there, silently begging for her to take him back. Eleanor still couldn't understand what he thought was so special about her; she was too far gone for anyone.

His departure too, had been without pomp and circumstance. He hadn't said goodbye to her. She had overheard the maids gossiping one morning about how the ' _fuckhot bodyguard had quit and how they'd miss looking at him_ '.

She didn't need to ask who they were referring to. Her ears had perked up at ' _fuckhot bodyguard_ '. 

Her mother and Liam had been smart enough not to mention his name in her presence.

But she knew they talked. 

They saw how quiet she had become. How she actually treated her new bodyguard, Callum, with respect and human decency. 

It had now been twenty minutes since she had entered James Hill's new office-flat and was sitting quietly across from him.

He knew why she was there.

She knew why she was there.

He wanted her to say it. The smug bastard had been Team Jasper from the minute he had spilled his guts about having feelings for her.

"Is there anything else, Your Highness? While I do appreciate you stopping by to make sure that Sara and I are adjusting, I sense that you might have something else on your mind," James said carefully as he refreshed her teacup.

"Are you still keeping tabs on _him_?" She whispered, looking at her hands. Eleanor knew if she looked up, the tears would fall.

James Hill had seen more than enough tears from her to last a lifetime; and she would rather spare him the burden of this particular set.

"We are required to keep tabs on all former staff for a year after departure," he explained, smiling softly. "There's been quite a turnover as of late, so you'll have to specify who you're talking about, Princess."

Against her better judgement, she looked up and shot him a scathing glare. Naturally, he wasn't fazed in the least.

She cursed to herself; James Hill knew damn well she was more bark than bite.

" _Mr. Frost_ ," she said through gritted teeth.

"Ah," he said knowingly, and turned back to his computer. "Yes, we are still keeping tabs on Mr. Frost for the next nine months."

"Is he still in London?" She asked, crossing her arms and leaning forward on the desk, her expression cautious as James typed away.

"He moved to New York about ten weeks ago," he informed her. "He only stayed to tie up a few things and then left, after he handed in his resignation."

"New York? What the bloody hell is he doing in New York?" She demanded, straightening up.

"He is a security advisor at the United Nations Plaza," he confirmed as the printer behind him came to life, and spat out several sheets of paper. "He received glowing recommendations from and Her Majesty, and myself. He was an incredible asset to the cause. He earned his own fresh start, if you will."

Eleanor nodded as he stood, and gathered the papers behind him and slid them into a black envelope.

"Thank you," she muttered, standing. She wordlessly took the envelope and tucked it under her arm, and turned to the elevator.

"Would you like me to ready the plane, Princess?"

* * *

Eleanor had ignored the folder in her bag like it was the plague.

She had brought with her every piece of toned down clothing she owned. She didn't want to be seen. One word that even indicated that she was in the States, she was sure he'd make sure he wasn't found.

"We'll be landing in ten minutes, Your Highness," the steward informed her.

She nodded and continued to stare out the window as the buildings below became closer and closer. As he became closer and closer.

It wasn't until later that night, after she had checked into The Four Seasons, and was left alone, did she slowly remove the contents of the file James Hill had given her.

And there he was.

His address.

His phone number.

His new employee number with the UN.

A picture of him from his new security badge.

Eleanor scrutinised the photo. His face, his ridiculously good looking face, stared blankly back at her. His eyes gave nothing away. Nothing saying if he was thriving without her, or if he was just as messed up as she was.

She roughly rifled through the remaining pages, and let out a cry of frustration when she saw nothing indicating his marital status.

Everything in that file was professional. Nothing indicated that he had been intimate with her. Or her mother, for that matter. She threw them to the floor, save for the one with his stupid photograph and contact details.

Eleanor drained the glass of vodka soda she had been nursing, and picked up the phone on the nightstand and dialled his number with shaky fingers, until it rang and rang and rang and-

" _Frost_."

Her breath hitched in her throat.

" _Hello_?"

She gulped as her heart pounded loudly in her chest.

" _Hello_?" He repeated, a slight edge of irritation in his voice. " _Listen- I can hear you breathing_ -"

She ended the call without another word. Even if he traced the number back to the hotel, they'd never reveal that she was staying there. She had checked in under a false name, anyhow. No one had looked twice at her. She hadn't worn a stitch of makeup. Nothing about her screamed princess.

Just a sad looking girl with a lot of money.

Eleanor stood, and put the coordinates to the United Nations Plaza into her iPhone. To her relief, it was only a fifteen minute walk away. She could go by herself, as long as she took her phone with her.

There were tours of the building, and she'd be damned if she wasn't in the first one of the day.

With her goal in mind, she changed out of her clothing and slid into the cool sheets of the bed.

* * *

She had dressed in a pair of black jeans, white converse, one of Liam's old white t shirts that she had swiped, a baseball cap, and kept her face fresh. Eleanor studied her face in the mirror; she looked much younger than her twenty-two years. She swung her backpack over her shoulders, slipped her phone into her pocket and slipped out of the hotel unnoticed.

Half an hour later, she sat drinking her Starbucks on a bench overlooking the Hudson River. She'd have to go inside any minute if she was going to accomplish anything.

Sighing, she clutched her tea in her hands and headed to the visitors entrance, her guard high.

"Your name, miss?"

"Excuse me?" She blurted rudely, turning to face the tour guide, who was staring at her with a startled expression. "Sorry- Roberts. Len." She apologised sympathetically. No one had ever asked for her name before.

She was aware of several pairs of other touristy eyes on her. Great. She was going to be _that_ girl, apparently.

She pulled her cap lower over her eyes as she walked through the metal detector, where another security guard, who was not Jasper, eyed her. Most likely for the tone that she had just taken with his colleague.

Eleanor paid no attention to the tour, she followed along unceremoniously and hung close to the back. She had no idea where he'd be, if he was even in the building.

* * *

"Mouthy British thing in the tour this morning, J. Almost bit Emily's head off when she asked for her name."

Her ears perked up as she heard someone, clearly gossiping about her. Eleanor stopped, and stepped into a small alcove as the tour continued without her.

"Oh yeah?" He didn't sound interested.

"Hot as fuck though. Nice ass."

"Go ask her for her number then," he replied. They was coming closer.

"I think I will. Maybe she's looking for a little vacation fling."

"I don't think so," she said clearly, stepping out as they rounded the corner.

Jasper's eyes flashed dangerously as he took her in, evidently not recognising her.

The one standing next to him, the dark haired guard from the security checkpoint, dropped his jaw.

"You can't separate from the tour-" Jasper clipped.

"I fell behind," she said icily, finally meeting his gaze. His expression immediately hardened.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded coldly. "Are you alone?"

"Of course I'm alone-" she snapped.

"Hang on, do you two know each other?" The other stopped, holding a hand in front of Jasper, halting both of their movements.

"Are you insane?" He exclaimed, pulling out his mobile, and ignored his colleague. "Does James know you're here?"

"That's none of your business, Jasper."

"Come with me. _Now_." He said through gritted teeth. Jasper grabbed her arm and pulled her to a nearby lift and shoved her in. He was seething.

Not because she was there, but because she had come _alone_.

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GODDAMN MIND, ELEANOR?" He shouted once the doors closed behind them.

Eleanor visibly recoiled from him, her lips parting in shock. He had never raised his voice to her. Not once. The bell dinged, signalling their arrival on another floor. He took her by the arm again, and led her down a long hallway, lined with offices until he stopped abruptly, fished out a set of keys from his pocket and roughly unlocked the door and shoved her inside.

"What are you doing here?" He repeated as he swiftly tore the cap off of her head and threw it on his desk.

"I wanted to see you." She said quietly.

His stoic expression broke then, as she threw his own words back in his face.

"No, no you're not doing this," he said, turning away from her and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he attempted to control his breathing.

"It was you. You called me last night."

"Yes," she confirmed. "James gave me your file."

"I guessed as much," he replied, sitting down in his chair. "What do you want?"

He had her there. What did she want, exactly? For him to come home with her? To once again, leave another position, for her?

To tell her that he still wanted her?

Her bottom lip trembled slightly. He'd hurt her a great deal, and she him.

"I don't know."

"So you flew all the way to New York and you don't know why? And you just fancied yourself a tour of the United Nations building, where I happen to work now," He pressed.

"I wanted to see you," she repeated. She felt foolish saying it to him, after she herself had rejected the very same words from him on several occasions.

"Why? After four months, of nothing- after you told me to go because it apparently hurt you too much to _even look at me_ -" he began, his voice raising again. He caught himself that time as he watched her shut down before his eyes.

He could have kicked himself.

"I should go." She whispered finally, heading for the door.

"No!" He said urgently, bolting to his feet. He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her flush against his body.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt the length of him against her. So many things stirred inside of her as both of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

Her hands curled into fists against his chest, as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled back, and roughly pressed his mouth firmly to hers.

She moaned into his mouth as their tongues fell into a familiar battle for dominance; her hands wrapped tightly around his neck and wove into his hair.

Jasper let go of her then, and slid his hands under her backside and lifted her into his arms and set her down on top of his desk, scattering the papers on the floor. He pulled away, his chest heaving as she stared at him, shocked, her lips bruised from the force of his kisses.

They stared at each other, each wanting the other to say it. Eleanor knew in that moment that it was she who had the shortest straw.

He was going to make her beg for him.

She wasn't just a princess to him. She hadn't been for a very long time.

"You weren't my boyfriend," she murmured, fingering his tie as it dangled in front of her eyes.

"What was I?" He pressed.

She swallowed. "Boyfriends don't do what you did."

"Shit ones do," he compromised as she wrapped his tie around her small fist and pulled him back down to her. He resisted.

"You can try again, if you want," Eleanor said, her voice just above a whisper; he barely heard her. She was too afraid to look up. To see his rejection.

"I don't want to be your bodyguard, Eleanor," he said firmly.

Eleanor shook her head, her tangled black hair falling into a mess over her shoulders as she held him firmly by his tie. His knuckles were white on either side of her against the dark wood of the desk.

"Tell me what you want, I'm not a goddamn mind reader," he said, grasping her chin and forced her to look at him. "I won't kiss you until you admit it."

She pressed her lips into a thin line. He would drag it out of her. He wouldn't be _Jasper_ if he didn't.

He tentatively reached up and brushed away her scowl with his thumb, before gently cradled her face in his hand.

"Say it," he commanded; his tone dominating.

"Come back," she whispered.

"For what? I have a good job here."

 _For me_ , her mind screamed. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

He pulled back and arched his right eyebrow at her, a small smirk playing on his lips. The smug bastard was enjoying this.

"Stop being-" she began heatedly, but he covered her mouth with his hand and straightened up, untangling her fingers from his tie in the process.

"Stop being what? Careful of my own feelings? Worried that you just came here because you wanted to have sex with me?" He egged her on.

"I want you to come back to me, you fucking piece of shit! _I miss you_!" She shouted, pulling his hand off of her mouth.

"You always did give the best compliments," he said dryly as she straightened herself up on his desk. "I can see why they call you the _People's Princess_. A goddamn mouth on you like some bitch from Hackney."

"You're reprehensible," she spat.

"And yet you still came here for me," Jasper said smoothly. "I need to go back to work. You can either hide in here for the next seven hours, or go back to whatever hotel you crawled out of."

"What?" She exclaimed. "No."

"There are other things in here that-"

"I am second in line for the British Crown, in case you haven't noticed," said Eleanor as she slid off of his desk, swiping her hat back and jammed it back on her head.

"You know what trumps that? About 150 different representatives, from different nations. Your security isn't my problem anymore."

"Take me to David Clifton," she demanded, crossing her arms.

"No."

"If you don't, I'll find his office myself."

"You are not roaming this building, Eleanor."

"I'll do what I please, thank you. And I'm _Your Highness_."

"Considering I just had my tongue down your throat, _Your Highness_ , I think we're past formalities," said Jasper pointedly as she stalked toward him, a fresh scowl on her face. "I'm still not taking you to Ambassador Clifton."

"I'm staying at The Four Seasons," she snapped, picking up her bag. "I'm staying in the Studio 57 Suite. I'll add your name to the list."

"I'm done at five," he snapped back. "I'll have to escort you out."

"Whatever," she muttered.

"They told me you had softened up," he said casually, locking up behind her. "I'm still not seeing it."

"Who told you that?" Demanded Eleanor.

Jasper didn't reply.

 _"Have you been keeping tabs on me?!"_

He turned to face her, that stupid smirk of his back on his lips. Fuming, Eleanor wanted nothing more than to slap it off of his face.

How dare he. Of course he still had eyes and ears on her. Making sure that she was staying out of trouble. That if his window of opportunity opened just a slight crack, he'd be sliding himself right back into her life as if he had never left in the first place.

"Reprehensible," she repeated under her breath as he placed his hand in the small of her back, and forced her back towards the lifts.

"Yeah, you're definitely a prize, too," he informed her. "Don't think I can't hear you cursing me out under your breath."

"Fuck you."

"Oh you will, later, trust me," he said confidently. "It's been six months, baby. We've got a lot of catching up to do tonight."

Eleanor exhaled loudly, airing out her irritation. He was good looking, yes, but the second he opened his mouth it was generally lost. What she saw in him, she'd never know. He had his redeeming qualities, but he also had a lot of shite he needed to work through.

She had a lot of shite she needed to work through.

Each of them preferred to have the other there to soften the blow.

"Five," he confirmed again as the lifts opened to the main entrance hall.

"I'm walking away now, by myself," she called saucily.

"Who was that, anyway?" asked his friend at the security checkpoint as they both watched her stalk away.

"That, Chris," Jasper began as he helped himself to the package of gum on the desk, "was Her Royal Highness, Princess Eleanor."


	2. Chapter 2

" _What the hell are you doing in New York?"_ Liam exclaimed, holding his phone away from his face, as if his she couldn't already see his cross expression. "I need you here, Lenny!"

What was she doing in New York, _really_? Eleanor bit her lip as her twin stared at her, awaiting her response. Waiting for her to justify taking off across the ocean, without her security detail, last minute.

" _Lenny_!" He repeated.

"I have something here-" she began, but she knew lying was useless. Liam could see right through her, and they both knew it.

"Don't bullshit me. I'll go ask James, if you don't tell me."

Eleanor glared into her iPad.

"Are you in trouble?"

"No, I am not in trouble! Why can't you just let me be? I just needed a few days to deal with something. That's all." She said dismissively as she crossed her legs into a more comfortable position on the sofa overlooking the Hudson River. "What happened today? Did I miss anything important?"

Liam exhaled and shook his head. She could tell that he was less than pleased with her lack of answers, but understood it was a moot point. She'd let him know when she was ready.

"No," he confirmed. "Met with the deputy PM today. The usual."

"Just tell her to go away," Eleanor groaned. The twins had an immense dislike for the woman, and she them. She didn't like the fact that they had cleaned up their acts, and that they were putting up a united front against her. They wanted the Monarchy to be relevant, good, and a positive influence once again.

She wanted to control their power and public influence. Eleanor had told her in not so many kind words where she could shove her opinions.

Eleanor, when infuriated, bore an alarming resemblance to the Dowager Queen that not a single soul dared to mention out loud.

"It's about time we told her she's not getting confirmed, Liam," she groaned. "If the people question it then we need to be transparent with them. She's a bitch. I'll go on national television and say it, too."

"I don't doubt that you would," he laughed. "I think the people will want something more than ' _sorry, she's actually a bitch_ '," he mimicked her. A little too well.

"Shut it, you." She snapped.

"But seriously though, who the hell do you even know in New York?" He cut in, arching an eyebrow as he lounged on his bed.

"Don't you have some _Kingly_ things to do?"

"I do, but I'd also like to know why my sister is _alone_ on the other side of the world."

Eleanor studied his face, and she could see the mirth dancing behind his eyes. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, despite the fact that he was trying very hard to keep his expression neutral. She narrowed her eyes.

"You know why I'm here," she pressed.

"I want to hear you say it," he confirmed, smirking.

A loud groan of exasperation fell from her lips as she fell backward amongst the cushions. "What is it with people trying to drag shit out of me today?"

"I see _someone_ isn't going easy on you. Good."

"Fuck you, Liam."

"I have a meeting. Tell Jasper I said 'hey'." Said Liam, snickering and disconnected the call before she could reply.

Eleanor dropped her iPad to the floor and draped her arm over her eyes and let out another groan of frustration. That twat bastard twin of hers knew where Jasper had been the whole time. He too, likely had a hand in Jasper landing such a lucrative position back in America.

She would not put it past them to have some sort of conspiracy to get her back to him. As messed up and negative as their dynamic was, he had been there for her for several months. She hadn't slept around and her drug intake had reduced. He hadn't once criticized her. He sat quietly next to her as she shoved cocaine up her nose, time after time after time. She had thrown things at him, belittled him, and Jasper never once demanded an apology.

For all intents and purposes, she Princess Eleanor, had treated him like shit. And yet, the smarmy bastard still slept next to her nearly every night.

The daytime had been hers. The nights were his.

It was a startling realisation to have. And an incredibly inconvenient time for her to feel remorse.

Eleanor was not in the mood to be apologising. She was in the mood for several things, things that included a particular light-brown haired ex-bodyguard of hers, but apologising for her behaviour from several months ago was not one of them.

Of course she had go and develop a conscious after her father's death. She had been perfectly content before; however, she knew that lifestyle in particular was dangerous. She would have eventually been forced into a rehab facility. If not, she'd likely be dead before she was thirty.

Liam would have to have buried another sibling.

Eleanor was her own maker. She always had been.

* * *

It was four-fifty when she toyed with the idea of ordering dinner. She hadn't eaten since the dry muffin she had gotten from Starbucks that morning. Should she get something for both of them? It dawned on her then, that she had no idea what he liked.

Coffee. Tea. Breakfast, and she wasn't entirely sure, but she thought he had eaten a sandwich from the Pret in her presence once. No, he had, because she complained about the smell. He had put it under her nose to get a rise out of her.

Eleanor would wait. She had called down to the front desk and left specific instructions for them to give _Mr. Frost_ a key to the elevator, and a pass to her room.

The Princess was not ready to descend from her tower on high just yet. After the incident that morning, she would make him come to her.

She glanced at her mobile. Five-fifteen. Another ten minutes, give or take. Not that she was counting. Eleanor placed the room service menu back on the desk and slowly crossed the room, and stood in front of the window, catching a glimpse of her own reflection for the first time since that morning.

She had touched up her face with a minimal amount of foundation, but she still looked tired and worn out. She had for a long time; Eleanor couldn't recall the last time she had gotten a full night's worth of sleep. The fact that she was also now five hours behind schedule didn't help matters, either. She sighed impatiently; it was so like him to make her wait.

He'd beeline his tight ass right over there if he knew what was good for him.

"For god sakes," she muttered, checking the time again. Five forty-five. Her stomach tightened; maybe he had changed his mind?

She peered down to the street below; not that she'd be able to pick him out in the crowd- she was too far up. It was packed with pedestrians.

Eleanor moved into the small sitting room and opened the bar, and helped herself to the bottle of whiskey inside, pouring the glass a little too full as she felt her anxiety creep up.

Was there someone else? She thought, suddenly alarmed. Had he just said those things to get rid of her, because he had thought that she was actually done with him?

Jasper _was_ good looking. All he had to do was look at some poor girl, and she'd drop her knickers for him. Eleanor had seen how the other women eyed him; like he was a piece of fresh meat they couldn't wait to sink their slutty talons into. Only then, she had been confident that he was hers. Even if he didn't want to admit it. Hell, she didn't even want to admit it. Because all of the shagging they had done had been _so_ reluctant, that they just _had_ to do it several times in one evening. Multiple times a week for several months.

No, she wasn't going to call him. She wasn't going to seem desperate. Instead, she beelined for the phone and dialled down to the front desk.

"Hello, Your Highness. What can we do for you?" The girl asked politely.

"I was just curious if Mr. Frost has picked up his keycard yet," she asked, trying to keep her voice nonchalant.

"I don't believe so. Would you like me to call you when he does?"

"That won't be necessary," she said cooly, and slammed the phone back down on the receiver.

Eleanor poured herself another drink, and laid down on the bed, and stared blankly out the window.

It was then she heard it. A rustling outside her room. Her eyes focused on the reflection of the door the upper window. A card being slid through the lock, and then three quick beeps signalling its approval. The handle clicked, and she watched it turn down and the door swung open.

He entered, his eyes sweeping the upper half of the room for her. She didn't move from her spot on the bed as he removed the duffle bag from his body and dropped it loudly on the floor, as if he was trying to elicit a response from her, wherever she was. He turned, and secured the door.

Jasper exhaled loudly and turned to the small set of stairs, and slowly began his ascent toward her.

"Would it have killed you to acknowledge my presence?" He asked, leaning against the bannister as he met her gaze in the window.

"Would it have killed you to be on time?" She replied, sitting up, and looked over her shoulder at him.

"I got held up," he stated. No apology.

She pressed her lips together to bite back her reply.

Jasper pushed himself off the wall and removed his jacket and tie, and set them down on the chair next to her bed, and moved slowly toward her. Her head turned, watching him until halted in front of her.

"That little stunt you pulled today started a hell of a lot of gossip," he began. "They thought you were my psycho ex-girlfriend."

Her eyes narrowed, but she offered no reply.

"Which isn't a lie, you _are_ my psycho ex girlfriend."

"I wasn't your girlfriend," she replied as he took another step toward her. Eleanor reclined back on her elbows, her legs dangling over the side of the bed.

"So you say," said Jasper, placing his knee between her legs, and forced them apart. "I said you were my ex-girlfriend, but you weren't psycho."

" _You're so sweet, Jasper_."

"I said you were batshit crazy. Because you are."

"You really _are_ sweet," she repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she squeezed his thighs with her knees, holding him in place. He bent down, placed his hands on either side of her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye; his warm breath fanning over her face.

"I just give out what I receive, baby," he breathed in her ear. Eleanor leaned further back, glaring.

She wanted to do nothing more than slap that damn cocky expression of his off of his face.

He pulled back then, and lifted her discarded glass of whiskey to his lips, and effortlessly drained the contents. "So, are you gonna feed me dinner, or what?"

" _Excuse me?!"_

"I'm starving. You told me to come here. I just worked all day-"

"You're a real piece of work, Jasper, you know that?" Eleanor said, scrambling to her feet, her face flushed. She stalked across the room, and picked up the room service menu, and held it out to him expectantly.

He slowly made his way over to her, his eyes firmly planted on hers, and plucked it out of her outstretched hand. He leaned back against the large, oak desk and dragged his gaze away from hers and down to the lamented page in his hands.

"Get whatever you want," she muttered, crossing her arms.

"Did you eat?" He asked, not looking up.

"No," she replied, moving beside him and leaned over to look over the menu as well. Jasper moved his arm from its spot across his chest to wrap around her waist, and pulled her into his side, forcing her to lay her head on his chest.

And damn, he smelled good. Whatever he used in the shower, a musky-earthy scent, mixed with his own smell, was a force to be reckoned with.

His lips on the side of her head snapped her out of her reverie. The hand that was on her side moved up her back as he turned his body, his hand tangling in her hair as he lowered his mouth down to hers.

Eleanor grabbed hold of the front of his shirt, pulling his body flush against her own as his mouth moved expertly overs hers; before trailing down her neck, her collarbone, and back up to her lips again.

The menu slipped out of his fingers and onto the floor as he pinned her against the desk with his hips, his other hand hovering dangerously low on her waist.

It had been far too long since she had last gotten laid; and judging by the way Jasper was pawing at her, it had been a while for him too.

"I thought you were hungry," she said breathlessly as his fingers worked on the button to her jeans.

"I'm more _thirsty_ ," he admitted huskily. She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Tell me what you want, Eleanor."

"I want you to come back with me," she said firmly, putting her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back slightly so she could look into his eyes.

"Len, I _just_ started a new job here. I told you. I'm not going to work in the palace again," he sighed, moving away from her. Anything he had been trying to elicit from her evidently was not going to happen any time soon.

"I'm not asking you to come work in the palace," said Eleanor as she bent down and picked up the menu. "James Hill has done a fine job doing complete overhaul and updating our security protocols. My new bodyguard keeps his mouth shut, and leaves me the hell alone. Which is more than what I can say about you. Your services to the Crown are no longer required."

"So," Jasper began, running his hand through his hair, a smug look gracing his features, "You want me to go back for _what_ , exactly?"

"What did you want to eat?" she asked, picking up the phone.

"Surprise me."

* * *

They ate in silence on the small terrace, watching the sun go down. She never had been a big eater. Especially in front of other people. She had ordered him some complicated pasta dish, and opted for a salad for herself, a bottle of red wine, and he had accepted it without protest.

"Have you heard from Ophelia?" he asked, breaking their silence.

Eleanor speared a tomato with her fork, and reclined back next to him. "She isn't allowed on palace grounds, or near any member of the family," she explained, popping it in her mouth. "That wasn't our call. It was the Scotland Yard's. There is a strict no-contact policy in effect until Ted's trial. A security team from MI6 were brought in and their belongings were searched, and removed. They did a whole sweep of the palace, and found out that he'd been planting bugs in the foliage and sending the feedback to Jeffrey Stewart. We're giving James and Sara a cottage on the grounds, once the renovations are complete. So no, I have not heard from Ophelia. And neither has Liam. He doesn't want to right now. He's got too much to worry about."

"You two are quite the team," he observed, taking a drink of his wine.

"Well mutually decided that it was in our family's best interests if we handled things together, and openly," she replied. "Liam keeps nothing from me, and I him."

"Does he know you're here?"

"Yes."

"Does he know _why_ you're here?"

"He understands that I have some personal business to take care of."

"What kind of personal business, Princess?" Eleanor's head lolled to the side as she looked at him, her expression purposefully blank and expectant. Jasper leaned forward, set his plate on the small side table and draped his arm over the back of the bench.

"I'm still figuring that part out," she admitted, resting her head on his shoulder and setting her empty salad bowl down next to her, and drew her legs into her chest.

It didn't feel right, calling him her boyfriend. He wasn't more, he wasn't less. Their dynamic had been something so incredibly messed up and unique. A normal term didn't settle with her. Eleanor wanted him, and that was all she knew. Jasper didn't seem like the doting type. Or perhaps he was, she had no idea. He was still such an enigma to her. The words _Jasper_ and _boyfriend_ still left a sour taste in her mouth.

"Ted knew who I was, when he hired me," Jasper said finally.

Eleanor made no indication showing that she had heard him. She kept her eyes fixated on the darkening skyline.

"He hired me because, opposed to my parents, I have a clean record. I've never seen it, but I suppose my MI6 profile looked something like a sad story. Got involved with the wrong girl, and driven out of Las Vegas in the process."

"I thought you left on your own free will. Because it was a ' _goddamn impossible way of life'_?" She said tonelessly.

"Would you have preferred me to tell you that I had been sleeping with the daughter of a mob boss, whom I frequently did high-stake cons with, which led me to you, because we were going to take the Koh-i-Noor?"

"I would have appreciated your honesty," she admitted.

"And then you would have had me promptly arrested, and tried for treason," he confirmed.

"No," she denied quietly. "Because if you were going to do it, you would have done it by then. You had unrestricted access to the Crown Jewels, and security footage. You slept multiple nights a week in my room, knowing full well my closet contained enough diamonds to satisfy the needs of whoever you were going to sell to. You had access to the surveillance room. You could have stolen it, and scrambled the video. And you didn't."

Jasper was quiet for several minutes, his fingers unconsciously twirling the ends of her hair. "You weren't who you I thought you were. I knew it the minute I told you that we had made a sex tape."

Her shoulders tensed at the memory. She had been terrified. Having her bits on the cover of the tabloids was one thing. Having her bits on the internet, riding his dick, or doing God knows what, was another.

And she honestly did not remember. She had stayed in bed for several hours after he had left, trying to rack her brain for some memory of a camera being set up. Of something.

Eleanor had nothing but flashes of memories from that evening; she had done several lines of cocaine at the club, and promptly washed it them with several shots of vodka and Hennessy.

 _She remembered how good his lips felt on her neck in the aeroplane back home._

 _How he had talked dirty in her ear in the car back to the palace, and how she had liked it._

 _How she had willingly dropped her dress for him, and how his eyes had lingered a little too long on her body. As if he hadn't seen something quite like her before._

 _His hands were like fire on her skin; everywhere he touched her burned for more._

 _The way he moved inside of her, it didn't feel quite like anything else she had experienced before._

 _The way he held her afterward, until she eventually became too hot, and pushed him off._

"Not your finest moment, Jasper," she said finally.

"No, and I'm sorry," he agreed.

"I wasn't exactly prime real estate either," Eleanor admitted, picking at her nail polish. "I never apologised for how I treated you. And you still came back. _Every goddamn time_."

"Someone had to," he sighed, putting his legs up on the small table in front of them. "Liam told me how exactly you came to have trust issues. And you can trust me, Len. I swear to God that you can."

"I appreciate your gesture, I really do," she began, "but I need to know that you're not going to-"

"-You're the one that came _here_. I gave you exactly what you wanted. You told me to go, so I did," he pulled back so he could look down at her, his expression serious. "You can't have both. You either need to let me go, so I can get on with my goddamn life, or you need to tell me why you want me to come back to England with you, Eleanor."

Her eyes glistened in the fading sunlight as she stared back at him.

"Things are finally resembling something that might be the new normal for us," she began. "Liam will be crowned King. My mother will fade back, but she will still be Queen until Liam marries. And that leaves me, the spare. I help Liam where I can, but I can't be his crutch forever, Jasper. And I've sat for a number of weeks now- sober, might I add- wondering what I contribute to all of this.

"It occurs to me that I don't contribute very much. I've spent the better part of my life knowing that I wasn't necessary. A significant tragedy will have to befall us for me to become Queen, and I don't think I could do it. I'd have to abdicate the throne.

"There aren't a lot of things that make me happy, you see." She said, her tears finally spilling over.

Jasper swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, but made no move to touch her.

"But you tried. You challenged me. You were there for the fallout of my fashion show. For that stupid charity tour. For my dad's death, _after_ I had you fucking arrested! Who does that? I want you to come back with me because I-I… I have _feelings,_ and they're not going away, Jasper."

Jasper slowly reached up as to not startle her, and held her face in his hands, brushing her tears away with the rough pads of his thumbs. He knew what she was trying to convey. There were certain words she didn't throw around to people that weren't Liam, Robert, or her father, and he'd be damned if he was going to force it out of her in that moment.

"If it's happiness you want Len, you know I'd spend every day trying to make you smile, if you would stop being so damn stubborn and just let me," he breathed, still cradling her face in his hands.

She nodded. "I want more than you trying to make me happy Jasper. I _want_ us to try. As normally as possible, given the situation."

"Well, we were together for six months," he reminded her, smirking. "And we were _technically_ living together."

Her mouth opened to reply, something smart, he was sure, but no sound came out.

"Fine," she sighed, defeated. "But answer me."

"You're asking me to give up _another_ job. For you, you realise this? Some of us need to work for a living, Princess."

"If it's money you're worried about, Jasper, don't be ridiculous."

"So you'd pay me for my services? Doesn't that make me a rentboy?"

She exhaled loudly and pulled away. "You know that's not what I meant," she said through gritted teeth. "Official palace-sanctioned relationships get-"

"I'd get a stipend, for being with you, and for accompanying you on appearances," he confirmed, still smirking as she fished a cigarette out of her purse and lit it. "So you're saying we'd have a relationship?"

"You're impossible, Jasper," she groaned, leaning back against the banister. "Yes. That's what I'm bloody saying. _Come back on that bloody jet with me and be my goddamn boyfriend before I change my goddamn mind_!"

He slowly rose to his feet as she took a final drag from her cigarette, and stubbed it out in the potted plant next to her.

"You're a real piece, you know that?" He said. "You _really_ know what to say to make a man feel wanted."

"I just give out what I receive, _baby,_ " she replied, echoing his earlier sentiment as he placed his hands on the railing on either side of her, effectively trapping her body between his and the patio barrier.

Jasper smirked at her. "I busted my ass for months. For you."

"And I did say thank you," she reminded him.

"And told me to go away in the same breath."

"Can you honestly blame me, Jasper?" Eleanor interjected, meeting his gaze with a steely expression of her own.

"No, but I am a selfish person. But not as selfish as you, Princess."

Eleanor exhaled loudly, but held back her reply. She had missed his challenging, take-no-shit from her tone. Nobody in the palace challenged her. Not Liam. Not the Queen. Not James. Sure, there were half-assed protests, scoffs, and eye rolls, but no one talked back to her. Nobody dared to.

But Jasper did. And that was more than enough.

* * *

"We'll be landing in fifteen minutes, Your Highness," the steward informed her as she stared out the window, watching the rooftops of London become closer and closer. Eleanor made no move nor sound to indicate that she had heard him. She saw him bow to her out of the corner of her eye, and then head back to the front of the plane where he had been sitting. Her fingers toyed with the stack of fashion rings she wore on her hand, slightly nervous of the hellfire she'd most likely have to endure when she disembarked from the plane.

She'd purposefully ignored Liam's calls and texts over the past few days, other than sending him a quick note to let him know that yes, she was alive, and that yes, she was indeed fine.

In fact, she was more than fine. Eleanor had slept better in the past few nights than she had in the past several months. Far from soundless; Jasper had just been as insatiable as she. More than once she had woken him to his mouth on her, in more places than one. Although she didn't display it as often as she should, she did have manners. And she was more than happy to show her gratitude. More than once.

He had done well keeping in his mouth shut that he had been bedding the crown princess of the United Kingdom. He had told her that he had told his colleague, Chris, who she was, but he didn't believe him. Instead, he had settled for believing that she was his ex-girlfriend. That rumour had spread through the service staff like wildfire.

It was only intensified when he told them that he was quitting, and heading back to the United Kingdom. With her. On the private jet she had flew in on.

Eleanor's eyes flitted to the seat across from her, eyeing its sleeping occupant. Jasper Frost looked so much less high-strung and stressed out while he was asleep. His guard was down, and he was drooling on the upholstery.

She uncrossed her legs, and jabbed the heel of her boot into his shin. He flinched awake, his hand immediately going inside his black jacket for a gun that wasn't there.

"Calm down, Rambo," she drawled, turning back to the window. "I thought you would appreciate a few moments to get your bearings and to wipe that saliva off the side of your face."

He cursed under his breath as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, and ran a hand through his hair before standing and headed to the small bathroom behind her.

"You need to return to your seat, Mr. Frost," the steward called. "We're going into a descent."

"Right," he called, opening the door. He crossed the cabin in three long strides, and sat in the seat next to her, and quickly buckled himself into his seat.

"Are you nervous?" he asked quietly, reaching for her hand.

"Why would I be nervous?" she replied, turning to look at him. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

" _Why would I be nervous_?" he echoed her, smirking as her face quickly transformed into a scowl.

"Oh, I don't know-" she began, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"-Shut up, Eleanor," he interjected. "I'm fine. Tired, but fine."

"You _just_ slept for four hours," she argued.

"Yeah, because you kept me up half the night," he whispered in her ear, his fingers loosening from hers and slipped under the hem of the black tank top she was wearing.

"If I recall correctly, it was _you_ who woke _me_ at 5:00 this morning when we didn't have to be up until six," she whispered back.

Jasper shrugged nonchalantly and reclined back into his seat as the plane hit the tarmac. She pursed her lips as she saw the crowd of paparazzi waiting for her to disembark. She had been sighted the previous night leaving a restaurant with Jasper, and then again in the morning when they were leaving hotel. He had been dressed in a suit then, and they were both sure that the paps that had been trailing her had just assumed that he was just her bodyguard by the way he was standing protectively over her. It wouldn't have been the first time he had been caught in a photograph of her.

Eleanor exhaled loudly as she unbuckled her seatbelt, stood, and stretched as a car pulled up, marked with palace flags. She slid her black blazer black on and donned her sunglasses as Jasper pulled out a set of his own, and placed his hand in the small of her back as they moved towards the door.

They were shouting things at her, asking how her trip was, and what she had been doing there, but she paid them no mind.

She squared her jaw as Jasper came up behind her at the top of the stairs, and easily slipped his hand in hers without a word, and nodded. A wide smirk spread across her lips as she pulled him down the staircase, her fingers clasped tightly over his hand as a new wave of shouts overtook them as the realisation dawned on them that the man that the Princess had been sighted with over the last few days was not her bodyguard.

He hadn't been for a very long time.

A member of palace security, whose name she did not know, opened the door to the limousine for her, and she slid inside, and Jasper followed suit, placing his hand protectively on her thigh as the car pulled away, and headed towards the freeway back to the palace.

They were silent for the drive back, both weary of their audience in the front seat. Eleanor knew how they talked. She was sure the other bloke in the front had already texted someone to spread the word on just who exactly Her Royal Highness had brought back from America. She was already fuming at the thought.

The self-satisfied smirks of her family were surely to be waiting for her upon arrival.

* * *

Sure enough, when the car breezed through the palace gates, she could see two figures waiting at the top of the palace stairs.

Liam, and James. James, she could understand. Jasper would need to be searched before he set foot into the palace. They were still on a high security alert, and protocols needed to be followed, regardless of who the Princess was dragging home with her.

Liam, on the other hand, she knew was there to take the piss and throw his " _I knew it"_ in her face. Not bloody likely, if she had her way.

The guard slid wordlessly out of the front seat, bowed to Liam, and opened the door to her side of the car. Eleanor slowly slipped out, and turned around.

"What's with the welcoming committee?" she said rudely, setting her sunglasses on top of her head as she folded her arms on the roof of the car, effectively preventing Jasper from getting out behind her.

"Missed you, too, Len," Liam called, crossing his arms, and arched an eyebrow. "Don't be a dick. Let him out of the car."

She sent her twin a scathing look as she stepped aside, and Jasper smoothly exited the vehicle, and turned to face his former boss expectantly, resting his arm on her shoulder as she crossed her arms, her expression unreadable.

James Hill's face broke into a satisfied smile, his stony demeanour breaking. "Welcome home, Mr. Frost."


End file.
